28 May 2012


It wasn’t a stranger, but a friend.
A cup of coffee, just a cup
A dance, one dance, and I waved goodbye.
This man friend of mine,
He smiled nice, stayed employed, taking me out for coffee.

With a simple welcome to my house,
I made a nice meal,
But my kindness, mistaken for hints;
And my friend, my friend, turned foe.

Driven by lust, locked the door behind me,
And I was left with scars!
I had been betrayed! By one who knew me!
A friend!
Someone I called friend, turned beast!

Betrayed, heartbroken, wasted, dirty,
I could not let this happen to only me!
 I too became an animal, man to man, beast to beast.
My trust had been breached!
I needed revenge, and revenge I did! To all men who my path crossed.

My fellow women, judging me,
They don’t know me! They don’t know why! Yet they judge!

They called me bitch, a female dog!
They called me a slut, as if my legs could not shut!
They called me a hooker, and other ugly names.
But all I wanted was to be unforgettable,
A memory, a wound to every man.
A wrath, madness, to other women.
Each morning I woke up, a joker by my side.
Oh I glittered in the wind; desired by my fellow animals.

At 3.00am I rose, removing the arms and legs that trapped me,
I made myself a bath, flavored gels, assorted oils, perfumed water, to wash away his smell;
To become me again: Clean, head high, sweet scent,
Walking down the streets,
Knowing I was still dirty,
Knowing the many nights, I had cried myself to sleep;
I hated me! I hated me.
I wanted to jump, jump out of me, to leave me alone, to be gone, gone with the wind, never to return.
I fell into a numbness.

The only tree I could see, took me by its branches, and held me up to the breeze,
And once again I got life,
I found peace, in the clean fresh breeze.
There I found her; I found God in her; I loved her.
I found me; I found God in me; I loved me.
Stench made scent, dirty made clean,
The unforgivable was forgiven, forgiven and forgotten.
I forgave him, I forgave me.


A red rose,
The rose of love,
The rose for funerals,
Today I held a red rose,
In my arms.
Was it a rose of love,
Or of the love dead in me?
The funeral of my heart.

A red dress,
An expression of love,
An expression of pain.
Today I wore a red dress,
Over my body.
Was it an expression of love,
Or of pain?
The pain in my heart.

Red wine,
The wine of love,
The wine of distress.
Today I sipped red wine.
Was the occasion love,
Or was it distress?
Of what I feel inside.

Red colour,
The color of love,
The color of pain.
I see red all around,
Lost amidst the love,
And the pain.
Should I love,
Or feel the pain?